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Friday, December 24, 2010

Yuletide Greetings!

This is the first The Weed Electronic Christmas Card!

To kind of clear the air here, I first want to mention that we're going electronic this year because we really love technology. It's definitely NOT because we’re so poor that we can’t even afford stamps or envelopes or couches for our living room or sushi or other basic necessities like actual cell phone plans and gym memberships.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way let's start talking specifics.

2010 brought several important changes to the The Weed household.

Tessa (also known as Lil' Miss "T") certainly made her mark this year. First, before she was born, her amniotic sack tore which was like, okay, thanks unborn baby, you're already a trouble-maker and it's pretty clear you're going to be piece of work when you grow fingernails and have completed appendages and stuff. Wife was put on partial bed-rest for most of the pregnancy because of this early insurrection. This, in case you were wondering, sucked. For me. I had to do a lot more chores and it kinda made me realize that I should have been doing a lot more around the house a long time ago I really like being the breadwinner. Well, to make a long story short, Tessa grew all her body parts and then got really big and then clawed her way out of Wife's body (really it was more like a ride down a slip n slide of amniotic fluid) and now she's here and instead of being all rebellious and rude like we thought she is the best baby ever and already sleeps through the night and hardly cries and you should be jealous of us because I was totally wrong and she's not a rebel, she's actually a genius miracle baby destined for greatness.

Viva, 2, had a triumphant year. Most notably, this year she learned her actual name (which is Olivia). I'm still not entirely sure how this came about considering we’ve actively campaigned against it by calling her pretty much every other name in existence, most commonly referring to her as Le France, short for Vive le France. Nevertheless, a few weeks ago we were like "Hey, Viva, can you put down the arsenic and hand me that toy" and she turned defiantly and was like “I’m not Viva. I’m Olivia!” and we looked at each other and we were all “Oh, how sweet, she knows her own name!” which is something most parents do when their child is about 10 months old. It was very impressive.

Anna, 4, had a big year. The thing we're most proud of is that she is no longer completely racist! Now that we have her in pre-school in one of the most diverse school districts in the country she has had ample opportunity to interact with those of varied races and nationalities and no longer says awkward things in the grocery store like “Mommy, I don’t like that girl. She’s black.” Or “Mommy, why is that person’s eyes funny?” Or, “Daddy, why is that girl wearing a cape on her head?” (Seriously, she said all of those things. I have no idea where this came from, but we can rest assured that it wasn't Wife who pretty much wishes I were a black man.) These days we get pictures brought home of her having tea parties with Somalians, and her favorite friend (who we're pretty sure is a Romeo and Juliet style crush) is a bi-racial boy named Tyrell. However, we knew she had officially reached the milestone of Not Being a Bigot when we had movers over one weekend. Two of them were black, and one of them was white. Anna interacted happily with the black movers throughout the day, but then at one point came running in and said "Daddy, I'm really scared." I asked her what she was scared of and she pointed at the third mover and said "I'm scared of that white man." Mission accomplished.

Wife, 32, successfully grew a human being and then pushed it out of her body without medication. Then she proceeded to get on anti-depressants. Beyond this she says “I didn’t do anything this year.” I’m okay with leaving it at that as long as when we say “didn’t do anything” what you actually interpret it as is “kept two little girls away from scissors and other pointy objects that could pierce eye-balls while also making sure they were fed and dressed every single day for an entire year.” This is not to mention the fact that her husband has the intattentive sub-type of ADHD, which means that she is also basically raising a son who is 30. So yeah, no big deal.

Wife got a little carried away with her photo shoot:

What? Someone has a camera?

Yes, daughter? Might I be of help whilst I hold this sign upright?

So happy!!!

Come hither, The Weed.

I love this woman.

The Weed, 30 (note that I'm two years younger than Wife because she's a cradle robber) is gainfully employed as a therapist. He also started a blog. You are reading it.

I think this as good a time as any to do what I learned I was supposed to do while reading a big fancy successful website all about how to make a good blog. First, I’m supposed to ask you to get proselytic and tell every person you see to go to joshweed.com and read about body deformities and ADHD ridden decapitated monkeys and whatever else happens to come into my brain. (Only if you like reading about that stuff yourself, though. If you don't like it, you should definitely not talk about joshweed.com to other people. And also I hate you now and we can't be friends.) It's Christmas, people. Give the gift of Weed.

Second I’m supposed to ask you to subscribe to my blog by either putting your email address into the box that says "subscribe by email or by pressing the button in the sidebar that says "subscribe" and then clicking on the reader you use. Doing this will alert the magic internet fairies that they need to send you an email when there's new stuff here. It’s supposed to be pretty simple to do, but to be honest, I know about as much about technology as an Amish octogenarian who also happens to be a deaf mute. With no hands. Who is also blind. And dead. (It’s quite possible that this is an exaggeration, given that you are currently reading an Electronic Christmas Card which I somehow managed to successfully slap up on the internet, but I’m sure you see my point, which is so convoluted by now that I actually can’t even remember what I was talking about and will therefore provide you with a random factoid. Did you know that pigs' penises are shaped like cork-screws?)

(Aside: so that casual random fact I just shared up there? It came about because I was writing this while in the car on the way to Portland and my sister and brother-in-law were in the car too and I was like “Somebody say a random fact that’s interesting and maybe scientific” and my brother-in-law was like “pigs' penises are shaped like cork-screws” and I was like “YES! PERFECT!” and my sister was like “What are you using that random fact for?” and I was like “Our family Christmas letter. What else?”)

Share joshweed.com. Go ahead and send an email to someone you love right now. Don't worry, I'll wait right here with my head cocked back and the cheesiest grin ever until you get back.

I guess I'll close us out with a couple of family photos.

First:

I hope you too can feel the abundant peace and calm I felt in this moment.

And at last, the family photo.

Only one of us was screaming in agony! ...A Christmas Miracle necessitating a mere 67 shots.

From the The Weed house to yours, we wish you a very merry Christmas and a wonderful 2011!

Are you new here?

Oh hi.

I am Josh Weed.

I am a gay, Mormon man who is married to a woman. I have four daughters, one of whom is not featured in the photo on the header of this blog because she wasn't born yet. When she's old enough to realize this she's gonna be pissed, but as of now she can't talk yet, so I'm rolling with it.

I am a Marriage and Family Therapist who is licensed through AAMFT (the American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists), a Certified Sex Addiction Therapist trained through IITAP (the International Institute of Trauma and Addiction Professionals), and was named the Best Father Ever from TAOITMKTSTOITATST (The Association of I Told My Kids To Say That Or I'd Take Away Their Screen Time).

This website is my personal blog. I write serious posts and humorous/satirical posts. You'll probably very easily tell the difference, but if you're ever wondering, just ask. Sometimes as I write this blog, I might talk about therapy concepts. I might mention things that I've learned in my grad studies. I might share thoughts I'm having around things I'm reading, or ideas I hope will be helpful. When that happens, please know that I am offering my thoughts as a fellow human writing on his personal blog, and not as your personal therapist, or even as a professional giving professional advice. Grain of salt, is what I'm saying. Always consult (and pay for!) a professional's opinion when making therapeutic changes in your own life.

So yeah. That's how things go around here. Some days you'll get a post on a serious topic I happen to be thinking about. Other days you'll get a post about me crapping my pants on a morning run.

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...The weed stood in the severed heart."What are you doing there?" I asked.It lifted its head all dripping wet(with my own thoughts?)and answered then: "I grow," it said,"but to divide your heart again."